


Parental Guidance is Not Advised

by soomin



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Cuz none of these kids have dads, Fatherly Bonding, Gen, shopkeeping duties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soomin/pseuds/soomin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Max’s friends come by the shop. Sometimes they come by to buy things. Other times they come by to hang with Max. Most of the time Max’s dad is there to make them do something completely different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Isabel

Isabel liked to say she knew her stuff. For example, when fighting, she knows how to take down an enemy in three moves or less (it’s just a matter of skill to do it). When doing homework, it is always handy to lock the door and listen to music because her Grandpa’s training can sometimes be very distracting. When one went into a store to buy a candy bar for a snack later, a person pays with money and leaves. 

“Knight to F6,” the shopkeeper said in a very serious voice. 

He or she shouldn’t be expected to play a chess match on whether or not paying $1.19 for candy is justifiable. 

“That’s an illegal move Mr. Max’s Dad,” she sighed and looked at the clock. She was going to be late for training at this rate. 

“Is it?” Max’s dad asked, as if questioning her knowledge of the game. Again, this was another thing she knew of. She knew how to play chess. It was one of the few games she played with her Grandpa. 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Dear, I don’t think you have every played…” the adult came to a silent stop in his speech before standing up dramatically and practically screaming, “CHESS CHESS REVOLUTION!” 

“That’s not a real thing,” Isabel commented. She honestly wondered if Max and him were even related biologically. They were nothing alike. Then again, she supposed that Max could have been so embarrassed by his father that he removed all urges to be like him.

From upstairs, she heard something falling done and someone laughing quietly in the distance. She had no doubt that Max just fell down from his father’s sudden outburst. Again, this was yet another thing she knew. Her new friend was prone to not adjusting well to his ever-changing environment. 

Max’s dad eventually calmed down from his bold proclamation and smiled. 

“You sure know a whole bunch of stuff despite being so young, huh?” he asked with a smile. Taking a piece, he moved it forward. Isabel didn’t even pay attention if it was even legal: they were twenty turns in, and she just wanted her candy bar. 

“Yeah. I’m kind of a big deal at home you know,” Isabel commented and moved another one of her pawns forward. It was always important to make sure you were moved ahead of her opponent, even if the opponent was a complete idiot at chess. 

“Really? To think that Max would be making such amazing friends so soon after moving! I AM PROUD OF YOU MY SON!” he screamed again. Max yelled something incomprehensible back, but his father didn’t seem to notice or care. He moved another piece forward. 

In the few hours that she and Max had hung out, he never really talked much about his family. She supposed a lot kids kind of left their parents out of the conversations, and seeing the only people she talked to were Ed and sometimes Isaac, it wasn’t completely out of her norm. However, Max’s dad seemed like someone who was constantly in his life, and it didn’t seem possible not to talk about yourself without talking about him. Perhaps it was because of that ominous protagonist-type foreshadowing he was doing earlier in Mr. Spenser’s office. Or maybe his dad is some kind of agent and this was just a ploy-

“Excuse miss, but I do believe it is your turn,” the shopkeeper interrupted. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’ll just move this piece and-“ Isabel stopped midsentence as she scanned the board. This wasn’t possible. 

There wasn’t a single place she could move that wouldn’t put her king in check. 

“What? When did this happen?” Isabel muttered under her breath. 

“Hah. It looks like my practice in Chess Chess Revolution has finally come into good use,” Max’s dad explained as if that was the true answer. 

“Dad, are you antagonizing the customer’s again? You know you’re actually supposed to sell things in a shop, right?” Max’s voice asked as he entered the shop and stopped mid-step. 

“YOU!” he yelled. 

“Hmm? Max, this is like the second time you did this. Is this some kind of hip thing with the kids these days?” his father asked. 

“You’re not here for some kind of weird,” he paused to get closer to her, “ghost thing, are you?” 

“TOAST GANGS? What are you doing hanging out with toast gangs Max? I thought I taught you better my son.” his father exclaimed as if they were some kind of horrible thing that actually existed. 

“Those aren’t even things Dad!” Max sighed and saw that a candy bar lay on the counter. 

“I just wanted a snack before going home,” Isabel explained but never took her eyes off of the chessboard. 

Max facepalmed, glared at his father, and placed the candy bar into her hand. 

“Just take it. The more you humor him, the more he’ll think this is suitable customer service. See you in school later then,” Max said and went back to the second floor of the store. That was probably where they all lived. That was probably something Isabel knew.

“Hah. Kids these days. I might not seem like it, but I’d like to think I’m pretty hip these days,” Max’s dad commented before counting the money Isabel had placed on the counter before he challenged her to a game of chess. 

“Though I never really know. I’m not Max, so how in the world does his expect me to understand things like the ‘Interwebs’ and ‘color television?’” Max’s dad asked in some kind of weird protagonist wistfulness. Maybe that sort of thing ran in the family. 

“Huh? Yeah, I guess.” 

“Except, I’m his dad. Guess I can’t help but try to butt into his life in some kind of attempt to keep him and his sister safe. Even if hates it.” 

There was a moment of an awkward silence between the two of them. 

“Well, I better be off to be the protective and loving father that I am. MAX! ZOEY! WHO WANTS PIZZA FOR DINNER AGAIN?” 

Isabel was suddenly left alone in the store with her candy bar and the chessboard. She studied the game one more time. How could an idiot like that beat her at chess? Chess was her game. It was the only thing she could beat Grandpa in anyways. 

She took in every move. All of his moves just seemed to be random steps a beginner would use because he didn’t know how to move them. Except, somehow, they made coherent sense now that she was looking at it more closely. In fact, all of it seemed like some kind of elaborate plan. How could she not have known his plan all along? What kind of shopkeeper would give out free snacks?

Crushing her candy bar, Isabel left the store without another word.

She needed to punch something. That was at least something she knew. Maybe Ed would be up for sparing. Probably not. That was another thing she knew.

Though, maybe not knowing things made life a little more fun. She’ll be sure to tell Max’s dad that for tomorrow’s rematch.


	2. Ed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed comes over expecting business, and he got nothing worse.

Some may say that it was illogical, but for Ed, making a macaroni dragon with various arts-n-crafts supplies with the local grocery shopkeeper made complete sense. 

“So, for the eyes then, I have some rainbow macaroni that we can use. It’s the wheel kind,” the shopkeeper said as he glued the final portion to dragon’s wings. 

“Uh huh, but then we’re going to need some of that aluminum foil to make sure that he looks all scaly and stuff. The macaroni isn’t really cutting it for me,” Ed commented as he made quick work with this masterpiece. 

“Right-o, kiddo,” and the shopkeeper agreed and walked off stage left. 

He liked this guy. That being said, there aren’t a lot of people that Ed doesn’t like, but the same can be said of the opposite. He really doesn’t like dealing with the specifics, so all he cared about was that at this moment he liked this guy. 

When Ed came into the store, all he really wanted to do was to bug Max to doing the morning patrol tomorrow because there was no way that he was going to do it for the third day in a row even if that made tic-tac-toe. He had a new high score to beat, and there was no way he was going to let Isabel take it from him. 

But then he came in, and this guy came up saying he sensed great artistic powers flowing through him, which he did, and now they were here making some kind of dragon out of various shaped pasta. 

All in all, it was a pretty good trade off. 

“So here’s the goods. Though don’t tell Max about this. He’ll probably get jealous that we’re doing this without him,” the guy said handing him the rainbow wheel macaroni with the aluminum foil. 

“Great. Just a few more touches, and we’re done. Where’s Max anyways?” Ed asked as he began wrapping the dragon in the silver material. He was right, this would be perfect for forming the dragon. 

“Eh, I think he’s out with a girl named Suzy or someone by that name or something. Seemed pretty forced get-together, but as a father, I respect my son into making good choices in his relationships and know that if he ever needs me, I am the father figure I was born to be,” the father answered. Ed nodded, not really caring about what was being said. Somewhere in the middle, the shopkeeper had went into a long winded story about how much he was glad that Max could act as a responsible child in his absence, but Ed just continued thinking on his mission. If that was the case and Max was going to be away for a while, then it looks like he was going to be here for a little longer. He paused in his wrapping and brought out his phone. Better to call Isabel now before things got hairy back at home. 

“Hey Isabel, it’s me, Ed.” 

“Yes. Yes. No. Max’s place. Uh, I don’t know. Like 7? Okay. Okay.” Ed said in response to all of Isabel’s questions. It was something he had gotten used to. Ed had no doubt that Isabel would be coming any moment now, ready to take on anything, because that’s what a main character is supposed to do. 

“I hope you don’t mind more company Mr. Max’s dad,” Ed warned as he resumed his wrapping. Max’s dad, who was at the time just pasting on the red macaroni for the eyes, paused. 

“Is it that Isabel girl that Max hangs around with?” he asked. 

“Yup. The plot needs someone to move things around,” Ed concluded. 

The two of them worked in silence for a bit more, but then Max’s dad paused in his work. 

“Why don’t you be the main character for once?” he asked. 

Ed paused in his masterpiece and thought about what was just said to him. He had always thought about that and he would be lying if he didn’t think about it a couple of times. However, the though passed by and he just smiled. 

“Yeah right. Don’t you know? Authors have to put strong characters like me to the side or else there will be no story,” Ed answered. He didn’t mention that those characters often end up dead or worse, but he decided he didn’t need to worry about that. He had people like Isabel to back him up if needed. 

Max’s dad laughed. “I like your moxy kid.” 

“Dad! Do I hear you using lingo no one from this century even knows about?” Max said from the store’s front entrance. Ed frowned. For the entire time, Max hadn’t notice that they were making a giant sculpture out of macaroni? The kid needed either a few pairs of glasses, or he was far too used to his dad’s madness than even Ed was. 

He heard the door closing, and Ed grinned. Despite Max’s horrible hearing, he was just in time for the grand unveiling of his masterpiece. 

“Is that going to be dinner?” Max asked and then noticing Ed was beside the dragon. 

Ed didn’t even see the kid rush up towards him when he finally realized that they were in the corner of the store. The shopkeeper was somewhere behind the counter counting up the total amount of money Ed owed for the three candy bars he bought during his works. 

“Are you here about… ghost things?” Max inquired. 

Ed smiled a toothy grin and was about to psych the kid up when he heard someone else coming through the door. 

“Ed! Are you here?” A pause before he heard Isabel sigh, “Of course you are. Who else would build something like that here before dinner?” Turning around forty-five degrees, she saw the two boys huddled in the corner looking very conspicuous about something. 

With a smile, Isabel came over and crouched with them. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked, itching for a fight after losing in front of her grandfather moments before. 

As Max tried to persuade Isabel that there really was no fight to be held (until a spirit actually did possess the macaroni masterpiece), Ed sat back and listened. While the main characters struggled, he was happy to know that when the plot got to thick, he’ll be there to come from the sidelines and fix everything else that was happening in the backgrounds. 

It was a tough life being overpowered like this, but it was a life he would not regret. 

“What’s this about postage things? Are you getting into stamps my son?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed is a great kid. I always love when he comes in, and I hope to see him in a really great art. That boy is stinking of importance.


	3. Isaac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac decides that Max's Dad isn't dad enough. He makes it his quest to fix that.

Dads were an odd species of people. They were supposed to make cheesy jokes, cook on the grill, and throw “pig skins” around during fall. They offer awful advice to their sons, and then go on about some long-winded metaphor about sports and dragons and other stuff to make sense of the situation, nod, and go do other dad stuff. 

Max’s dad was and did none of these things, and Isaac was going to rectify that. After all, it was what true friends did and a good way to wait for Max to come back from wherever he was.

“Pops,” Isaac began, knowing how these encounters should begin.

“Friend of my son,” Max’s dad confirmed. 

“It has come to my attention that-“ 

“Do you know how to cook?” 

“Excuse me?” 

He supposed that he probably should have assessed the situation before beginning his dramatic talk to Max’s dad. Isaac began to wonder how he managed to get into the Puckett’s kitchen without even realizing that this was where he was. But lo and behold, here he was, staring down the grown man who seemed to be crying into a bowl of something black – wait, were those corn flakes? 

“How did you burn cereal?” 

“Max likes his milk warm.” 

“…I see,” Isaac sighed. He supposed that he already have the dad trait of failing at simple tasks, but it was going to take a lot more for this father figure to realize his role of father. Taking the bowl out of the man’s hand, he dumped the burned remains as best as he could and decided to just throw the bowl away instead. No use in trying to salvage what cannot be saved. 

Opening the pantry door, he found that there were many boxes of pasta and tomato sauce lined up very neatly. They did own a store, so he supposed that it was only rationally that they would have this many supplies, but why have them if no one could cook? 

“How does pasta sound?” 

The grown man had begun crying again but in happiness rather than in desperation, and Isaac vaguely wondered if using tears was healthy for cooking. It would save a lot on the water bill. Walking over the faucet, he began washing his hands, a pot for cooking, and a few herbs that he had found in the fridge. Living in the forest had made him much more appreciative of these little green things than the average pasta-cooker. After filling the pot with some water, he began chopping up the herbs with ease. 

“Hey, you’re pretty good at that,” Max’s dad commented. “Any thing I can help with kid?” 

“When the water starts boiling, just start dumping a box of pasta in, slowly too,” Isaac explained as he pulled out a bottle a tomato sauce to prepare. 

“Oh! Here let me get that for you,” Max’s dad said as he pulled out the jar of tomato sauce from Isaac’s hands. Muttering something about safety as the man used great strength to open the jar, Isaac could only hope that the Puckett family was getting their healthy serving of nutrients with this man as the leader and head cook. 

On second thought, a couple helpings of vegetables never killed anyone. 

Pulling out a few bags of frozen peas and carrots, Isaac realized that he had never done anything like this for a long time. It was a bit surreal to say the least. 

“Something wrong there?” Max’s dad asked. 

Isaac paused. If Max’s dad already had the ability to tell if something was wrong with others, then perhaps that he wasn’t that far from fully attaining his dad powers as he thought. Shaking his head, Isaac continued to prepare dinner. At some point, Mr. Puckett must have realized that Isaac was able to handle this on his own and chose to sit in the corner and just watch. 

Then it happened. He really should have just kept it simple and use the paper plates Mr. Puckett was getting, but no, he had to use the nice plates to make the dish look nice. He supposed the scattered remains of the dish did look nice on the ground. Failure did compliment ground bottom after all. 

“I’m so sorry. I’ll clean it up and pay for everything. It’s my fault; I’m such a klutz,” Isaac apologized as his mind ran a mile a minute. He didn’t even realize what Mr. Puckett looked like until he felt something stinging his hand. 

“There we go! All clean and wrapped up!” the father smiled and carefully guided a dazed Isaac away from the mess. Isaac had yet to say anything more when the man sat him down at the dinner table. 

“It’s a good thing that I was just as klutzy as you were. Max’s mom would always yell at me for breaking all of her good china, but it was because of it that I learned a lot about first aid,” Mr. Puckett explained as he made sure Isaac wasn’t hurt anywhere else. Satisfied that the boy was fine, he then moved over to the broken plate and cleaned up the mess to ensure no one else got hurt in the future. 

“It was an old plate anyways. I’m not actually sure where we even got this one…” Mr. Puckett assured. 

“You’re not angry?” 

“Angry?” Mr. Puckett inquired. “It was just an accident, and everyone makes them. I’m okay. You’re okay. The floor is a little scratched up, but nothing a little elbow grease can’t fix up. Plus, dinner is ready!” Seeing how the kid had yet to cheer up with that reassurance, Mr. Puckett walked over to the boy. 

“You did great,” he complimented and ruffled the boy’s hair. 

“Dad! I heard something crash. Could you at least wait until I finish checking someone out before destroying the house?” Max asked as he ran upstairs. 

“Max! Look! No pizza tonight!” 

“Yes father. You see, pizza must be ordered daily in order to- is that actual homemade food?” 

“Yup! Your friend made it,” Mr. Puckett said as he pointed over to the still dazed redhead. 

“Isaac?” 

“Hey?” 

“Why has everyone been coming over my house lately?” 

“There’s even vegetables tonight!” Mr. Puckett announced as he began to pour out helpings to everyone. Max’s initial surprise had immediately disappeared and looked at Isaac in such gratefulness that he began to wonder how long it had been since the Puckett family had actual food. 

“Come on, you made the food, you might as well as eat it too,” Max gestured at him to join him at the table. 

That surreal feeling came back again. Isaac had been so alone for a long time that he almost forgot that families were nice. And to think that he was going to come here to teach Mr. Puckett how to be a dad. Isaac sat there for a few more seconds before joining the Puckett family for dinner. 

Grabbing out a notepad, Isaac made a small note to himself. 

Max’s Dad – Dad power: achieved. 

Isaac – Family: getting there. 

It was a work in process, and he might stumble, but he’ll get there eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! And there we have it, the final chapter of Parental Guidance is Not Advised. I am so happy so many of you guys enjoyed it! It was fun writing it, and I had a lot of fun just thinking of how to get these kids in that shop. 
> 
> Some inside info: I had initially wrote this because I wanted Isaac to get some parental bonding with Mr. Puckett, but realized that this would be a great story and had to wait for Isaac for last or else this story would have never gotten off the floor. Also, this became more insightful than I initially thought it was going to be. Maybe I'll add in a few more characters if I can figure out how to get them in the store.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So here is a thing! I don't know, I guess I would really like to see Max's dad in the future and then this came about. Also, in addition to not having moms, none of these poor children seem to have a dad except for Max. Well, let's count on Max's dad to do what dads do best. 
> 
> Also, I like Isabel a lot. I like where she's going (Funkytown), and she kind of reminds me of me. So there's a lot of things that went on my head in here. I hope I didn't butcher her at all!


End file.
